Captive
by megsovereasy
Summary: "She wanted to hate him and hurt him the way he had hurt them. But he made her pulse race in a way she wanted to disregard, made her ache for things she hated herself for." DUSTFINGER/MEGGIE  rating subject to change
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note**: This takes place during Inkheart, a few days after Meggie and Fenoglio are captured. I've changed things around a bit, where Mo is still missing, but Dustfinger remains at the camp under Capricorn's watchful eye. He is not yet considered a traitor to Capricorn, but promised Mo he would try and keep Meggie out of harm's way while Moe came up with a plan, as he is not allowed to leave the site.

While reading the books, I always pictured Meggie much older than twelve. For the sake of the story, she is 17. This is a Dustfinger/Meggie plot and it's quite twisted, so if you don't like, please don't read.

Inkheart and its characters do _not_ belong to me as much as I wish they did.

* * *

><p>Meggie always had Mo's hand to cling to when she was frightened. He could conjure up the right words to calm her fears, the hushed sentences soothing as a lullaby. A mother's love, or so she'd heard, was forever. But Mo's was sacred. Mo's was a knit afghan and a dog-eared novel on a rainy afternoon. Mo's was a crackling fireplace during a snowstorm. They had a silent language of books and band aids and forehead kisses that comforted much more than a simple, "It'll be okay".<p>

But Mo was gone.

It used to be that Meggie had never met a word she didn't like. Now she could tell you a few. "Vulnerable" was the first. She traced it on the bedsheets with her fingertip. She hated the way it sounded on her tongue, hated how at seventeen, she was feeling it for the first time. If she hadn't stuck by her father's side all her life, only reading about susceptibility and helplessness in books, and gone out, kissed a boy, gotten stood up, _something_, she would've been prepared for this. Her hand dropped. She knew she was being ridiculous. Nothing could've prepared her for this.

Fenoglio's apprehensive gaze was burning a hole through her back. Meggie refused to look at him. She wasn't sure she could bear listening to him tell her once more to "eat, for God's sake girl, you're a withering away!" Her appetite was nonexistent and their four walls were surely closing in, suffocating her. A movie reel constantly plagued her mind of the horrific "what if's". What if Moe is hurt? What if I never get out? What if they got Eleanor? What if I'm to die in here? She couldn't remember the last time she slept.

"It's been four days," the words parted her lips, a raspy murmur.

Fenoglio's scribbling stopped. He had been writing and writing even though Capricorn decided to post-pone the "event" that was so long-awaited. He never said why, but Meggie barely found relief in that announcement. She just wanted to go home.

"He'll come, Meggie."

She lifted her eyes to meet his, so sure and contented. "How do you know? Mo could be dead in the mountains somewhere!" Her voice cracked. She cursed how desperate she sounded. Playing damsel in distress never sat well with her.

He shrugged and balanced his pencil between his fingers again. "He's a smart man. Don't think for a second he'd leave you up here."

His words fell flat. Fenoglio, though a great writer, lacked the skill of persuasive speaking. Meggie found no consolation in this.

She squeezed her eyes shut and laid back onto her featherless pillow, trying to block out the demons that invaded her mind, vying for her attention. A dreamless sleep finally enveloped her at last…

An hour or so later, the door to their room slammed open, echoes reverberating off the walls. Meggie's heart jumped into her throat, forgetting for a groggy second where she was. Mortola stared coolly back at her.

"Capricorn has decided his little _witch_ should have her own quarters," she sneered, pulling Meggie roughly by the arm. "Don't ask questions, just follow me."

At the risk of being tossed about like a ragdoll, Meggie obliged and trailed after the Magpie. She rummaged in a large ruby pouch for a key, all the while glancing darkly at Meggie. "The fire eater said you were displeased with your room. Not good enough for Silvertongue's daughter, hm? No cooking, no cleaning, not even making you read, but you demand better?"

Startled out of her daze at the mention of Dustfinger, Meggie took a step back. "But I never-"

"Quiet!" Mortola barked. "I don't know why Capricorn is permitting this disgusting request. If I were him, I'd teach you a lesson about being a greedy little brat." She turned the handle and prodded Meggie sharply into the room.

It was draped in maroon silk, like something a Moroccan princess would sleep in. For some reason, she felt a slight blush creeping up on her neck. It radiated sensuality, as if she were catching a glimpse of an intimate moment. All the more embarrassing, Mortola thought she had _asked_ for this room that was obviously much more lavish and privileged than the others.

Meggie caught her reflection in the mirror and cringed.

"Been wasting away our food, too, have you?" the Magpie scoffed, shoving a change of clothes into her arms. "You look like a corpse. The men will not be pleased."

A feeling of apprehension swirled in her gut. Whatever this move meant, it was surely not to be good. Had Capricorn changed his mind and decided tonight was the night to call the Shadow after all? Meggie began to panic just thinking about it.

"Capricorn would like to see you tomorrow. In the meantime, clean yourself up. There is water in the bath. I don't want to be blamed for you looking like a dirty rat." With those parting words, Mortola left, locking the door behind her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Water spilled over her body, making her sigh in momentary content. It seeped through her hair, infusing it with rosemary and ginger cloves, feeling silky on her bare back. Meggie wanted to slip into a persuasive slumber, just her surrounded by waves and candles, but guiltiness gnawed at her heart. Fenoglio was locked away while she enjoyed a bath. Her smooth leg gently rubbed against the other, and she couldn't help but revel. How good it felt to be clean again!

Her thoughts drifted toward Dustfinger. Why did he convince Capricorn to let her switch rooms? It couldn't possibly be a gesture of… well, she didn't want to say friendship. Maybe it was more of an apology. She hugged her knees to her chest, willing herself not to think about him. Whenever she did, she winded up exhausted and confused and much more hurt than she could stand.

She stepped from the basin, wrapping a towel around her dripping body. Meggie knew she shouldn't take it to heart. Dustfinger loved Inkheart, and he actually thought Capricorn would find a way to send him back. Still, her chest panged her as if it was personal, so very personal. That night at Eleanor's, under the cloak of darkness, he showed her how he played with fire. She could feel undertones of, well, she wasn't sure yet. All she knew was she had the sudden urge to play with fire, too… but in a different sort of way.

Then they came. In one swift move, her world turned upside-down.

"Before you change," the words were uttered from behind her, making Meggie's heart freeze, "you should know you have company."

Dustfinger stepped out of the shadow of the window, an anxious half-smile lit upon his lips. Gwin was nowhere to be seen.

A whirlwind of emotions swept through her, leaving her breathless. Her heart thudded in her chest, a mixture of anger and anticipation and God knows what else. All she could think was he was _here_. Her blood boiled.

"How long have you been here?" she asked immediately, glancing haphazardly at the locked door. Meggie suddenly became hyperaware that her hair was still wet and she was half-dressed.

She wanted to despise him. She wanted to hate him and hurt him the way he had hurt them. But he made her pulse race in a way she wanted to disregard, made her ache for things she hated herself for. Dustfinger was the reason she was in this mess. Dustfinger was the enemy.

"I've only just climbed up," he nodded towards the window, averting his eyes. "I would never…"

He didn't need to finish his sentence, as Meggie knew exactly what he was meant. To her horror, she could feel a blush crawl up her cheeks. After all the times she imagined this conversation, this was not how it was supposed to go. She stepped behind the dressing screen, heart pounding.

* * *

><p>Dustfinger swore under his breath at his bad timing. He had embarrassed her. He knew she already hated him and this was just one more thing to add to the pile. He had hoped this would go better after last time. Her screams and curses danced in his mind of when she first found out he had betrayed her. To his surprise, they stung more than he had thought they would.<p>

He cautiously handed her a dress from behind the screen, careful not to look. It would be a lie to say he didn't notice her. Meggie was beautiful, innocence at its purest. Her mother's face flashed in his thoughts, but didn't linger. There was something about the girl that was different. Silvertongue treated her like a child, but she was wise beyond her years. Even Capricorn had realized it. He swallowed the strange affection he had for her like he would his pride. This fondness was foreign and uncomfortable.

"You have no reason to trust me, Meggie," he began, running a tired hand though his hair. "I realize this. But we need to talk."

She stepped out from behind the divider, her white nightgown clinging to her skin. She said nothing and sat down on the end of her bed, too tired to argue. She had screamed and cried all she needed to.

"Your father wants me to deliver a message,"

"Mo," she breathed, relief pooling in her eyes. "But- but you're one of them. How did you- ?"

Dustfinger laughed quietly, shaking his head. "My allegiance lies only with Inkheart. I'd have left with Silvertongue, but understandably, Capricorn doesn't quite trust me at the moment, so Basta's kept a close watch on me." He sunk down next to her, "And anyhow, your father made me promise I'd stay and make sure you're safe."

"Your word means so much to him, does it?" her sentence dripped with sarcasm. Dustfinger ignored the slight pang that arose in his chest.

"No," he said at last, "but I'm afraid it's all he's got."

An unfamiliar urge to comfort the girl chewed at him. He carefully reached out and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. Easy there boy, he chided himself, wary not to cross any line. "Meggie, I'm the only friend you have right now. These men are dangerous. I don't know what else Capricorn is planning, but it'd be smart to stick together."

She jumped off the bed, torn between two extremes. "I don't need rescuing! I'm not a little girl. Is that all you see me as? A duty to my father, a debt to be paid?"

"Don't be ridiculous. Of course not."

"Then prove it! Show me I was more than a trade-off for your one-way ticket home." Meggie came close this time, closer than he had been to a woman in a long time. Her lips lingered near his, a tempting promise. His pulse quickened.

"That night in the garden," she whispered in hushed tones, eyes pleading with him, "I thought… I thought…"

He knew what she thought. So it hadn't been his imagination, then: the tension, the eye-contact, the feel of the still night air. He wanted so badly to close the gap between their lips, to give in.

Dustfinger pulled back, regret already sinking in. "You're tired, Meggie."

And with that, he left, disappearing into the night sky.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The sting of last night's rejection burned in Meggie's eyes as she stood before Capricorn and his men, primped and preened like a doll they've yet to outgrow. Dustfinger slinked back in the corner of the church, silent but ever watchful. She refused to so much as glance in his direction, in fear of humiliation blooming on her cheeks. For once, morning came all too soon.

She could feel Capricorn's scrutinizing stare boring into her. It made her want to rip out her bobby pins, tear off this white dress that barely reached her fingertips, and disappear into thin air. She could do neither.

"You _are_ a pretty little thing, aren't you?" Capricorn said at last, a smirk unraveling on his lips.

Meggie could feel her fingers tremble, but she never dropped her gaze. She wouldn't be a coward. She couldn't. She owed her father at least that.

"My men seem to agree," he continued, as he looked towards the Black Jackets. "Tell me something, have we been unkind to you? Have we not fed you and accommodated all your needs? Does your new room suit you?"

His tone was pleasant, but she knew it meant danger. Capricorn did not feel emotion. He didn't care whether or not she was happy. A menacing glint sparked in his eye.

Meggie suppressed her fear and lifted her chin slightly. "I want to go home."

The room erupted in dark laughter. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Cockerell nudge another man in amusement.

"Brave, too, hm?" Capricorn's voice echoed off the walls, but his smile had disappeared. He gazed at her coolly. "Unfortunately, little witch, this is your home now. We haven't even had you read for us yet. All in good time, my dear."

"Ah, yes," he persisted, encouraged by her silence, "It's a sad thing when a father won't fight for his daughter. I suppose he's just…_forgotten_ about you. Good thing, too. Silvertongue isn't necessary any longer. He's freed from his burden, and in turn, free from you."

He rose from his chair and crossed the floor toward her. There was blood in the air. Dustfinger watched with a knot in his stomach.

"Poor Meggie," Capricorn reached out and cradled her cheek in his hand. She turned her face away, but he grabbed her chin roughly and forced her to look him in the eye, "all alone in the world. We can be a family to you."

She could smell the wine on his breath, and hear the threat behind his words. His touch made her queasy. "But we do not allow," he said, knives in his voice, viciously shoving her away so she stumbled back, "_dead weight_."

Dustfinger had to restrain himself from jumping to help her, to hold her while she regained her balance. But if he did, it'd just mean trouble for both of them.

"Mark my words, you _will_ read to us someday soon. But until then," Capricorn settled back into his chair, Basta at his side, "we expect you to behave like the other women in this village. At 17, you are not a child, and therefore, you shall do the duties women are called to do."

The men grinned sinisterly back at her. He couldn't possibly mean…? Meggie's heart froze.

Capricorn nodded, a smile snaking it's way onto his mouth. "That's right," he said softly, so they could barely hear him, "I'm afraid you'll be putting your brand new bed to use."


	4. Chapter 4

Nausea. That was all Meggie could feel as Capricorn's words sunk in, leaving her to imagine the horrible reality of what he meant. There was no escaping this- oh god, anything but this. The color drained from her face and the room began to swim under her gaze. Her lips parted but no words came out. "Make me read," her mind screamed, "Sentence me to death. Don't make me do this." But she was frozen.

The men around her nodded approvingly, some even high-fiving one another. Meggie could not bring herself to look at Dustfinger for his reaction.

"Tell me, child," Capricorn said suddenly, moving uncomfortably close to her. For a moment, he almost seemed sympathetic as he asked her in a hushed tone, "Have you ever even kissed a boy?"

She said nothing and Capricorn smiled because he had his answer. "I didn't think so. I imagine your father keeps a tight leash on you, hm, with all the moving around? Trying to escape the very threat of me. It didn't work, as you can see."

He turned to the men, chuckling. "She's pure as a winter's first snow. Basta, I'm sure you will appreciate that. We know how you like corrupting the innocent."

Basta? The world began to spin. Meggie knew she was close to passing out and everyone watched her fear with amusement, practically feeding on it. The thought of Basta's breath on her neck, his dirty fingers grabbing at her nightgown...

"Don't worry, little lamb. My men are most gentle, especially with the inexperienced. We all appreciate a woman's touch." The room murmured in agreement. Capricorn reached out to stroke her hair. "Just think if your father knew what was in store for you. It would destroy him. I almost wish he were here- but alas, we have no use for him anymore. His misery is no longer a priority, although it is like icing on a cake."

Basta grunted from across the room, playing impatiently with his knife.

"Oh, pardon me," Capricorn cleared his throat and grinned, "Basta is getting impatient. Let me sum it up for you, Meggie darling. When a man takes a shining to a woman in this village, she becomes his. We are not animals and we do not share our property. You will do whatever it takes to keep your man happy...and since Basta's most recent partner has run into trouble-"

A man's drunken voice interrupted, "More like ran into his knife!"

The room errupted into laughter with even Capricorn cracking a smile.

"Yes," he continued, "well you see, she was not satisfying his needs. You will make it your duty to do so or else you may meet the same untimely end. As Basta is partnerless, you will be his."

This was a nightmare. It had to be. Meggie would wake up in her bed at home in a cold sweat but altogether unharmed and Moe would make her hot chocolate to soothe her nerves and they would laugh about the absurdity of her dreams. Except not. Except this was very real and Meggie could feel it in her bones.

"I want her."

Everyone's heads swiveled in the direction of the voice. Dustfinger stepped out from the corner, calm and determined. He did not meet Meggie's gaze.

Capricorn blinked, the outburst taking him by slight surprise. "You want her?"

"I found her. I brought her here. I deserve her."

"Like hell!" Basta growled, suddenly running up to meet him. "Who do you think you are, fire eater? I thought I taught you to remember your place. Or do you want more decorations for that face of yours?"

Capricorn sighed and waved his hand. "Fine, take her."

"What?!" Basta reeled.

"The Matchstick Eater is right, as much as it pains me to say it. Let him have his prize. What difference does it make to you whether it's this girl or another?" Capricorn yawned. "I'm bored of this. You're all dismissed."

Meggie stood still, unable to shake the shock of the situation. The men grumbled and filed out, undoubtedly dissatisfied with the outcome, but Dustfinger did not move. She watched as Basta left, staring daggers at Capricorn as he settled back into his chair.

"You can go back to your quarters, little lamb," he smirked, taking another sip of wine. "You've got to prepare for tonight, hm? Show her the way, Dustfinger."

Still refusing to make eye contact, Dustfinger took her gently by the arm and led her down the steps. She could feel her face burning with embarrassment.

"Oh and before I forget," Capricorn said suddenly, his tone once again merciless, "We will know if you don't…complete your job."

_Complete your job._ The way he worded it made it seem somehow even more perverse. A job. A duty. Like it was a daily chore, as simple as washing the windows or doing the laundry. Meggie wanted to wrap her arms around her body, feeling exposed beneath the paper thin dress, knowing what they all were thinking. She might as well have been naked. So this is what it felt like to be an object, to be used and tossed away. The very idea made her sick.

The fact that it was to be Dustfinger instead of Basta only seemed to make the situation sadder. True, she would no longer have to fear a knife to her throat or feel nauseous by a single caress…but her innocence was still to be taken from her. Although Meggie knew the predominant emotion she should've been feeling was fear and horror and disgust, she mostly felt…ashamed. Humiliated. As if it wasn't bad enough, she was being forced to sleep with a man who didn't want her, a man who she had practically flung herself at the night before. So no, Dustfinger over Basta was not necessarily a relief. In fact, it felt more like a punishment.

"I know," Capricorn continued, "that you, Dustfinger, tend to get a little…soft. So if this is a ruse to relieve the girl from her calling…Just don't make that mistake. Because we will know."


End file.
